The Total
Eclipse of the Sun of 2017 became one of the most hyped natural events of the
decade.
Two years
ago astronomers noted that this would be the first total eclipse viewable in a
vast swath of the United States since 1918.
At first
this was of interest only to astronomers and other scientists such as myself.
However, I
noted that where I lived, the eclipse would achieve only 92% totality. Half a
loaf is better than none, though. While I planned to ‘watch’ it, I didn’t plan
on driving a couple hundred miles south to see the total eclipse. Viewing it
from my backyard was good enough for me.
Somehow
and somewhen, though, it stopped being ‘just’ an astronomical event and turned
into: an astronomical “EVENT”. As in:
a 2500 mile (4,000 km) long party, the like of which hasn’t been seen since
Woodstock (which was minuscule in comparison).
I heard that one such event planned on playing Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.
I can’t think of
a more appropriate title. (Ironically, when Pink Floyd first proposed the title, they learned another band had a song with the same title, so they temporarily titled the album "Eclipse" !!)
It promised to be the country’s largest
tailgate party in history. Small ranching towns such as Madras, OR (population
of about 7000 people) was to become a
city of several hundred thousand. The city council had a scientist on the
board. She realized that it was first landfall, so to speak, for the TES. Madras
has everything necessary for viewing: great weather, open land and is easily
reached, just off the interstate. The downside: perhaps six motels.
Nevertheless,
they put a person in charge, two years ago, to plan for the crowds they were
sure would come.
Smart
people, who wanted to see it, began making motel and campground reservations a
year in advance.
What
happened to them is exactly the same thing as did to horsemen when hotel owners
in Kentucky suddenly realized that fifty thousand woman would descend on
Lexington for the 2010 World Equestrian Games. They all quadrupled their room
prices.
Smart people, like my friend, made (and held
with a credit card) hotel reservations a year in advance of the games. A week before the Games, the hotel refused to
admit reservations had been made. Then they upped the price to at least $500 a
night. Only a conversation with her lawyer made them realize that at least in
her case, they’d lose a lot more money than they would gain.
They did
it to a lot of others, though. The same thing has happened with the eclipse:
motels were ‘losing’ reservations or gouging the person for a lot more money,
take it or leave it. One heard of outrageous rates like “$1600 for one night.”
Even the
town of Madras wasn’t exempt from gouging. The planner had contracted for hundreds of
portapotties two years ago. Last week, the portapotty company they’d contracted
with said the same thing: the rent has gone through the roof. Pay it or no
portapotties.
Greed.
Outright greed. Disgusting.
Being that
I was staying home, I was unaffected by this, except for one thing: the
traffic.
Beginning
five days before the TES, traffic started to build on I-5 South. I had to drive
about 70 miles north to Seattle on Sunday, the day before the eclipse. Normally,
southbound traffic on a Sunday evening is fairly sparse. This time, at noon,
the southbound side of the interstate was nuts-to-butts traffic, inching along,
at a rate of speed so slow one could have walked faster. It was that way all 70
miles of my trip. There were HUNDREDS of thousands of cars, all headed south. This
had been going on for days.
This, I
thought, was what a mass evacuation of a big city looks like.
There were
thousands of people, all heading for various parts of Oregon. The television
stations reported that the small airport, which normally had three landings per
day, was seeing a landing every three MINUTES.
Thank the
star(s) that my prairie wasn’t in the path of totality. We would have had this:
Below the
aircraft’s wings is a picture of a hayfield outside of Prineville, OR. Those
aren’t houses. They’re tents and campers, pop up pavilions and tarps. This is
just ONE spot in the eclipse’ path that runs from Oregon to South Carolina.
I would
guess there are at least a hundred thousand people down there, just in that one
spot.
On
Thursday, 17 Aug 17, the TV news helicopter filmed a line of vehicles on the
secondary road leading (Hwy 97) into Madras that was 30 miles long.
All across
the nation, from Oregon to the East Coast, there are towns in the path.
Thousands of people all wanting to be under the sun when it’s eclipsed. To see
the “tunnel in the sky”, to see the stars come out at noon.
All that,
for a two hour or so experience.
Hundreds
of thousands of ‘eclipse glasses’ were sold. One, on eBay, was selling for over
a hundred dollars. The thing was cardboard and tinted plastic, I think.
Many
thousands of those glasses were belatedly found to be counterfeit junk, no more
able to protect your vision from permanent retinal damage than tissue paper. I
guarantee you, there will be thousands of people who will be seeing an eye
doctor in the future due to retinal burns. No insurance will cover what they
will call a willful and purposeful, intentional damage to one’s eyesight.
I did see
the partial eclipse, indirectly, of course. I value my eyesight and didn’t even
think of looking at it.
I would have liked to have seen the blackened sky, stars in the morning, all that.
But I primarily wanted to see what, if any, effect it would have on the birds in my
area. I can say that there was none. The ravens still klonked in the trees, the
purple martins still called high up in the sky, the meadowlarks still sang, the
kestrels still hovered over the prairie.
The
sunlight, though, was ‘odd’. One could easily see a difference from normal
morning light. It wasn’t at all like sunlight
at sunset or sunrise. Here, the totality, such as it was, occurred at 1015 hrs.
The sunlight dimmed, as if on a dimmer switch. It appeared as it does when one
wears polarized sunglasses. It got a bit cooler, but then, there was a cool
breeze blowing so I don’t know if that was due to the decreased sunlight or the
ambient temperature.
It was
also easy to know when it was ‘over’. The light came back up, bright and harsh
as only an August morning sun can be.
While I
didn’t see totality, I did see a partial eclipse and afterwards, I walked back
into my house.
I am very
happy that I didn’t travel to see it. For after the very brief moments of total
eclipse, those thousands and thousands and THOUSANDS of people (some of whom
made the journey five days ago) will all now want to go home. Now.
Take five days’
worth of creeping, beeping gridlock and throw all that on the one interstate
highway in one day. What ordinarily takes about 5 hours drive from Madras will
take days?
Woof. It’s
going to be very, very bad. All it takes is one accident, one incident of road
rage, or a stretch of road construction
(which, at least in my state, is everywhere), to stop all traffic.
If the
highways were bad yesterday, I can only imagine what they will look like NOW.
In fact, I
just did. Oregon’s Dept of Transportation website says that the ‘drive’, such
as it is, between Salem, OR and Portland, OR (usually about a 45 minute drive)
is currently taking 3.5 HOURS. And once they hit Portland it can only get
worse. Even on its best traffic day, the 13 mile drive on I-5 North, from
Portland, OR to the Columbia River bridge can take two hours.
Yeah, I
missed the total eclipse of the sun. I sure didn’t miss the hellacious drive
after it.
Eclipse of the Sun becomes the world's largest tailgate party
Eclipse of the Sun becomes the world's largest tailgate party